Every once in a while, a book -- and, indeed, a writer -- comes along that takes the wind right out of your sails: and I mean that in the most pleasant way possible. 20TH CENTURY GHOSTS is that book, as fine a collection of ghost and horror stories as you could ever wish to read. And Joe Hill is that writer.

Although some of these stories have appeared elsewhere, in various (albeit obscure or very low circulation) magazines, Joe has appeared on the scene pretty much fully-formed. Every one of these tales could be mistaken for the output of a writer well into his or her career. But don't take my word for it -- evidence of his skill as as a storyteller is already there . . . with Joe being a past winner of the Ray Bradbury Fellowship and the A.E. Coppard Long Fiction Prize, as well as a nominee for the Pushcart Prize. And now he's got TWO stories in the five-story shortlist for this year's British Fantasy Awards. I suspect more nominations will follow. Don't say you weren't warned.

And we're putting our money where our mouth is on this one. We've got three editions instead of our usual two: a slipcased edition with extra material and signed by Joe and Introducer Chris Golden; a regular trade hardcover edition, signed by Joe and a trade paperback edition, unsigned.

Believe me, this one's a winner.. . new talents and household names alike, and from both sides of the Atlantic.

Happy reading!

Pete Crowther

Imogene is young, beautiful . . . and dead, waiting in the Rosebud Theater one afternoon in 1945. . . .

Francis was human once, but now he's an eight-foot-tall locust, and everyone in Calliphora will tremble when they hear him sing. . . .

John is locked in a basement stained with the blood of half a dozen murdered children, and an antique telephone, long since disconnected, rings at night with calls from the dead. . . .

Nolan knows but can never tell what really happened in the summer of '77, when his idiot savant younger brother built a vast cardboard fort with secret doors leading into other worlds. . . .

The past isn't dead. It isn't even past. . . .